


oh my God they were roommates

by moonlitserenades



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fantasy Racism, Fluff, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, because I have no self control, there are probably going to be more chapters of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitserenades/pseuds/moonlitserenades
Summary: “Hmm.” He waits a moment, giving Fjord a chance to speak again if he wants to, but when he’s silent, Molly offers, “I think trying to let your tusks grow in is a good first step, though.”“Yeah. Long as I can manage it.”“Well. You have us.” He grins. “I’ll just throw pillows at you if I hear you grinding your teeth at night.”Fjord snorts. “Yeah, great, I’ll look forward to that.”
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	oh my God they were roommates

**Author's Note:**

> This is generically set sometime between Fjord admitting what he's been doing with his tusks and the second _consume_ thing. When, exactly? Your guess is as good as mine, gentle reader.

When Molly comes into the room later that night, Fjord’s turning the Wastehunter falchion over and over in his hands, jaw working as he grinds his teeth.

“This seems fun,” he says, crossing the room to lean against the wall near Fjord’s bed. “Can I ask what you’re doing?”

He shakes his head, tracing one finger carefully along the now-jagged edge of the blade. “I guess I’m just trying to understand what's going on.” 

“That is an interesting development.” He tilts his head, looking down at it. “Has it ever done anything like this before?” 

“No, not that I know of.”

“Might be an interesting experiment, if nothing else,” he says idly. “Seeing if it keeps absorbing things. I have some very weird ideas about that if you’re interested. Stop doing that with your teeth.” 

Fjord blinks. “Shit, am I messin’ with them again?”

Molly nods. “Old habits. I get it.”

“Do you?” Abandoning the falchion, Fjord leans back on his hands, surveying Molly thoughtfully. “No offense, but you don’t exactly seem the type.”

“For...what, exactly?” His eyebrows inch up, incredulously amused. “Facing racially motivated prejudices?” 

Fjord’s eyes go wide for just a second, and he laughs, ducking his head. “Wow, I really didn’t think that one through at all, did I?”

“It wasn’t the most tactful you’ve ever been,” Molly allows, lips curved up slightly to take the sting out of it. 

“God.” Sighing, Fjord waves the falchion out of sight again. “What I meant was, you’ve just never seemed to care what other people think of you. I guess I kinda forget because you and Jester are both so confident.” 

“No, that’s fair,” Molly says. “I don’t know what it was like for me before, and I can’t speak for Jester, but this me never really saw the point in it. People’re going to see what they expect to see anyway.”

“Yeah, well.” Grimacing, Fjord drags one hand through his hair. “Wish I cared a little less.” 

“Hmm.” He waits a moment, giving Fjord a chance to speak again if he wants to, but when he’s silent, Molly offers, “I think trying to let your tusks grow in is a good first step, though.” 

“Yeah. Long as I can manage it.”

“Well. You have us.” He grins. “I’ll just throw pillows at you if I hear you grinding your teeth at night.” 

Fjord snorts. “Yeah, great, I’ll look forward to that.”

“Plus, you know if someone treats you badly with Jester around she’ll eviscerate them before the rest of us can even blink, so really, you should be okay.” He nudges Fjord’s booted foot gently with his own, and Fjord shrugs. 

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Then we’ll get you an earring or something,” he adds, smirking and flicking at one of the baubles dangling from his horns. “Rub your badassery in people’s faces even more.” 

“That why you have all that jewelry, then?”

“Oh, partly.” He trails one hand airily through the air. “Honestly, a big part of it is just that I love beautiful things, but it definitely helps with the assholes.”

Fjord exhales, shaking his head. “Yeah, see, I don’t think I could pull it off quite like you can.”

“I mean, I’d never expect you to. We have very different aesthetics. I couldn’t do your whole…” He searches for the words, gesturing at Fjord. “...swashbuckling gentlemanly charm thing.” 

This time, Fjord’s laugh is genuine. “ _Gentlemanly charm thing?_ ”

“Oh, whatever. You know I’m right.” He presses a hand to his chest, affecting Nott’s voice. “‘Fjord _always_ protects us.’” 

Snickering, Fjord snags the pillow off the bed and swings it, smacking Molly full on the shoulder. “Don’t be a fuckin’ asshole.”

“You’re bunking with the wrong guy then,” Molly says, catching the pillow and hanging on. He presses the back of his free hand to his forehead, switching to Jester’s breathy, “‘Oh, thank you for saving me, Oskar--I mean, Fjord.’” 

“You’re the worst,” Fjord says, freeing the pillow with one hard tug and swinging again. Molly, too entertained to bother trying to block, lets it bounce off his face, laughing.

“I’m also right. There’s not a single person in the party who doesn’t think you’re absolutely gorgeous.” 

Fjord flushes, scrubbing one hand over his face. “Don’t do that shit,” he says, but he’s still laughing a little.

“Literally everyone has said it to you at least once, so I don’t know what you’re doing with the modesty thing, but fine, I’ll let up.” 

“ _Thank_ you. Fuck’s sake.”

There’s still a playfulness hanging in the air that Molly definitely doesn’t want to ruin, but also…”The day you figure out that we’re right is going to be a real interesting one. I look forward to it.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Fjord’s quiet for a moment, and then he ventures, “...if I do decide to try some jewelry or something, will you go shopping with me?” 

“Oh my God, absolutely.” A thought emerges, sudden and delightful, and Molly glances over the rings adorning his fingers. His eyes fall on the one he’s searching for immediately--a simple, pressed silver band on his left thumb. By far the least ostentatious piece he owns, which makes it perfect. He pulls it off without a second thought and holds it out. “How ‘bout you start with this one?” 

Fjord stares. “What--are you sure?”

“Yeah, ‘course. I do know how to share, you know.” He lets his grin go just a tinge wicked. “Take it for now. See if you like it. I’ll take you shopping when we’re in civilization again, sound good?”

Fjord nods, sliding the band onto his index finger carefully, and looks at it with a kind of wonder when he answers, “Sounds good.”


End file.
